Sweet and Sour
by mello-cellist
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet decides to move to the small island of Castanet to escape the unrealistic expectations of her overwhelming mother. She runs into the proud owner of the island, Chase Darcy. At first glance, she finds him to be a rude, spoiled brat; but could there be more to his mysterious character? (Rated T to be safe)
1. Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of an irritating mother must be in want of a new home. On none other day was this true than when Mrs. Bennet burst into the room and yelled to her husband, "Have you not heard? The house up on the hill has been sold at last!" Her husband, Mr. Bennet, chose not to dignify this exclamation with a response, merely turning the page of the morning newspaper. Mrs. Bennet took this as invitation enough to continue.

"It has been sold, to a young college student that makes over two million dollars a year!" Mrs. Bennet nearly swooned with her own excitement. It was then that Mr. Bennet looked up from his paper wearily.

"I hardly know what you want me to do about it," he sighed, standing and moving towards his own private sitting room.

"You can be so dull sometimes, my dear Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet whined, following him like a dog follows his tail. "You must visit him, so that I may introduce my daughters to him!"

"Mrs. Bennet, this is the twenty-first century," Mr. Bennet sighed, stopping just outside the door to his room to face Mrs. Field. "Go yourself with the girls. Or, you could just send Elizabeth and Jane; they are the quickest of our daughters."

"You seem to forget, Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet pouted with ever-growing annoyance. "That Jane is in London and Elizabeth has just moved to Castanet, or wherever your old inheritance is!"

"Good for them, then," Mr. Bennet muttered, closing the door and swiftly locking it behind him. "I rather envy them."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet dry-sobbed, pounding on his closed door with unheeded pleas.

Elizabeth Bennet was having the time of her life. She had moved to the city of Harmonica Town on the island of Castanet a year ago, and she still enjoyed herself at a festival. They called it the Flower Festival, and the entire town danced and made a bunch of flowery jewelry, with the help of the town jewelry store owners, Julius and Myra. She noticed her friend Candace sitting down without a partner.

"Candace!" she gasped, panting with laughter and sitting down heavily beside her friend. "It's so merry tonight! Aren't you going to dance?"

"I'd rather not," Candace replied quietly, almost timidly, as she looked towards the jewelry booth. "There's no one here that I'd really like to dance with…"

"Liar!" Lizzie teased, scooting closer to the shy, blue-haired girl. "I see you sneaking peaks over at Julius. If you don't ask him to dance, then I shall ask him for you!"

"Oh, no!" Candace shook her head violently, thick blue braid smacking Lizzie in the face. "I'll just go ask him myself!" Candace walked somewhat quickly towards where Julius was sitting with some of the younger kids, sticking string through flowers. Lizzie sighed with contentment when she noticed Julius placing a flower crown on Candace and leading her to the area that had been cleared for dancing. The Witch Princess from Fugue Forest sat at one end of the dance area, waving a hand to keep the fiddle, cello, and flute playing, almost as if she was bored. Lizzie was craning her neck to see where Candace and Julius had walked off to when she was blocked by blue hair and a pair of warm amber eyes.

"Care to dance?" Lizzie's oldest friend in Castanet, Luke, flashed her a grin.

"As always, Luke," Lizzie laughed back and tossed her head, allowing Luke to lead her into a lively country jig. Their feet whirled, and Lizzie could hardly keep track of what she was saying, other than the occasional whoop of freedom that pried itself from her lips. But then, the music came to an abrupt stop.

"What's wrong?" Lizzie snickered, trying to maintain decorum as she turned around to find out what everyone was staring at with such horror. It was a boy, a man, and a woman. They turned disapproving eyes on everything and everyone, even when the crowd parted so that they could stand next to the Witch Princess and Mayor Hamilton, who had been following them nervously. The music started up again without a problem a moment later, but Luke led Lizzie out of the dancing so that they could sit side-by-side on a bench.

"Who are those people?" Lizzie asked, finally sober and curious. "Everyone seemed scared of them."

"They own this entire island," Luke grinned, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "They employed Hamilton and they pay for certain items to be shipped here. You bought land from them."

"Well, they sure don't seem very excited to own it," Lizzie rolled her eyes as she studied the family. The father was looking around with a haughty expression on his faced and pride in his black eyes, and he seemed to sneer when he noticed Lizzie studying him. Lizzie then stared right back with a sneer of her own before he turned away again. The mother was looking at the decorations with the face of a woman that was highly disgusted, her violet eyes managing to catch the last rays of sunlight that reflected off of her blonde hair. She was chattering away at Julius, who kept getting paler and paler even though Candace held his hand. The boy looked like his mother and father combined: thoroughly bored with everyone and everything he saw. His violet eyes were cold, which bothered Lizzie with the contrast it had on his mussed strawberry-blonde hair.

"That's right," Luke sighed, finally allowing his smile to fade. "They've been trying to sell it off, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, for years now."

"Who's the kid?" Lizzie asked, glancing at the boy to find him staring disgustedly at her. "He looks repulsive and repulsed at the same time." When Luke looked to up to see the boy studying them, he bristled.

"That's Chase Darcy," he replied, relaxing when the boy looked away. "We've been friends for years, but I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"With absolute contempt?" Lizzie snorted, jostling Luke's shoulder. "Let's just get back to dancing."

"Yeah," Luke grinned again, but couldn't help looking over his shoulder to study the rich young man. Luke and Lizzie managed to forget Chase Darcy while they were laughing at Lizzie's clumsy steps, but soon enough Lizzie had to sit down to take a rest.

"How does he get all of that energy?" Lizzie wondered, panting, as she observed Luke dancing an incredibly light-footed number.

"He drinks lots of coffee in the morning," a baritone voice answered unexpectedly, causing Lizzie to squeak in surprise and jump off of her bench. It was Chase, who had been standing next to her, and he looked rather awkward at this response. He frowned as Lizzie began stuttering to form a response, then walked away.

"Candace!" Lizzie yelled when she spotted her friend walking towards her. "It's time for an investigation!"

"Whatever do you mean, dearest?" Candace looked at Lizzie in puzzlement. Lizzie merely grinned like a crocodile, leading Candace to assume the worst.

"You can't always be so standoffish, Chase," Luke was standing by his friend at the refreshments table. "These people have the best intentions."

"The best intentions for my money, I suppose," was Chase's calm reply.

"You and I both know that's not true," the good-natured note that was usually in Luke's voice had been replaced with scolding. "You haven't even met half of the people down here, and I know for a fact that you haven't met Lizzie yet."

"If you mean the stuttering tomboy that you were dancing with earlier—" Chase sniffed disparagingly, "—then I'm sorry to contradict you. She was too star struck to say anything of importance to me when I made a joke."

"If you're referring to the one-liner you always make about me and coffee—" Luke grumbled, rolling his eyes, "—then I can see why. It's a very lame joke."

"You're always saying that," Chase rolled his eyes in response. "She doesn't seem very interesting either way."

"Well, she's very pretty," Luke attempted, sipping a cup of punch daintily.

"Mediocre at best," Chase dismissed with a wave of his hand. "If she wore some makeup, she'd definitely look…_somewhat_ pretty. Why don't you just go ask her to dance again, if you're so eager to admit it?"

"Maybe I would—" Luke smirked knowingly, "—if I knew where to look." Chase simply snorted again and left with a turn of his heel that would've impressed the fiercest marching band director. Luke looked under the table. "You can come out now," he smiled at the two girls that blushed back.

"How'd you figure it out?" Lizzie panted, crawling out from under the table and standing, brushing herself off as quickly as she could. She pulled Candace to her feet and turned to face Luke with her hands on her hips and eyes ablaze.

"Seeing as some of the doughnuts kept going missing, I'm surprised that Chase himself didn't notice," Luke snorted, laughing as Lizzie blushed and wiped some mysterious chocolate sauce off of her top lip.

"Well, I hope never to encounter that unpleasant man again!" Lizzie announced to her friends, looking sideways to make sure that Chase wouldn't hear. "As if I would ever wear makeup to hide my true beauty." Lizzie was truly antagonized now.

"He wouldn't look half as good in makeup as you would, dearest," Candace reassured her friend. "Maybe that's why he recommended it?"

"Candace!" Lizzie laughed. "You always know what to say!"


	2. Chapter 2

The day after the party had ended, Lizzie was still nursing a headache from the massive amounts of noise. She could barely walk into town without wincing at whomever decided to say hi to her along the road.

"Need something for that hangover, Lizzie?" the owner of Ocarina Inn, Colleen, smiled graciously at the girl.

"It's not a hangover, per se," Lizzie muttered, placing the fresh vegetables she had just picked on a table. "I didn't drink any…well, maybe just a little."

"I'll get Yolanda to make you up some special coffee," Colleen winked and yelled into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

"You're a lifesaver, Colleen," Lizzie smiled tiredly and slammed her head down on the table. Snores chorused from her chair seconds later. Colleen just shook her head.

"That's your charity project, Colleen, not mine," the pink-haired cook, Yolanda squinted out of the kitchen partition.

"I like Lizzie too," a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes slowly emerged from the kitchen and set down Lizzie's coffee carefully in front of her. "She's always nice to me, and she hasn't shown any interest in my beloved cook yet."

"For the last time, Maya," Yolanda scolded the young girl, "—Chase doesn't just belong to you."

"Who do I belong to?" the man in question strolled through the door of the establishment with a harsh jingling of the bell over the door. He stopped cold when he saw the prone rancher sitting at one of the tables.

"Nobody, of course, Mr. Darcy," Colleen backed away nervously, slipping through a back door.

"So, what are we cooking today?" Chase turned to Yolanda without missing a beat.

"Well, I need to make a special energy drink for Miss Elizabeth over there," Yolanda nodded to the sleeping girl. "Care to help?"

"Sure," Chase shrugged indifferently and pinned his overlong bangs to the side of his head. He began mixing different energy drinks together to try to find which concoction tasted best. "How long has that girl been in town?" He nodded to Lizzie.

"She's been living here for about a year now," Yolanda smiled while adding some fruit to a smoothie she was making. "You wouldn't know, though; she's been getting along very well with everybody. You'd think that she was born with Luke and Candace."

"They're her friends?" Chase asked, head down and concentration on the drink.

"Everyone's a friend of Miss Elizabeth's," Yolanda laughed lightheartedly. "Well, maybe except Luna. You know she's…eccentric."

"And Miss Elizabeth isn't?" Chase replied quietly.

"She is, but…in a different sort of way," Yolanda held a rubber spoon up to her lips. "She has a more…understated boldness. But you can tell that she does her best with that girl."

"Don't we all," Chase muttered. At that moment, the members of the kitchen heard groaning and the sound of a chair pushing back. Heavy footsteps stopped at the partition.

"Yolanda, you're a saint," Lizzie moaned and smiled groggily at the cook, not noticing Chase.

"I try, Miss Elizabeth," Yolanda smiled. "I almost have that energy drink finished up in return for those vegetables you brought us."

"That's the _last_ time I ever drink," Lizzie moaned, banging her head against the wall.

"Now, now," Yolanda began to fuss. "You said that last month, too. I don't think you paid for all of the damages at the Brass Bar."

"Of course I did!" Lizzie replied indignantly. "I always pay for—oh, look here! It seems that the owner has come to mingle with the commoners!" She had caught sight of Chase.

"Miss Elizabeth, be nice now," Yolanda blocked Lizzie's view by stepping in front of her. "We don't want the owner to shut this place down now, eh?"

"Whatever," Lizzie muttered ill-temperedly. "May I have my hangover cure now?"

"You might want to take one of those to Owen," Yolanda replied, handing Lizzie a cup of a murky red liquid. "I hear he's been nursing a hangover too." Lizzie brightened.

"I think…maybe I will," she replied, smiling softly, and then abruptly frowning. "As long as I don't bump into Bo, I'll be just fine. Maybe I'll take Phoebe or Maya with me." Lizzie shrugged and took a huge gulp of the energy drink.

"You may not want to gulp that…" Yolanda frowned as Lizzie spit the drink across the room. She fell on her knees coughing and choking as Chase got a mop.

"Now I have to clean this up," Chase muttered, glaring at Lizzie, who was still choking on what was left of the drink.

"Please…," Lizzie choked out. "…allow me, your highness. Don't want to ruin a perfectly good pair of pants."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chase retaliated, nudging the rancher with his foot. "I hate you stupid fools. You're always complaining about your own lives and you have no taste. It's not like I can do anything about it."

"Speak for yourself," Lizzie spat, standing up and walking out of the shop in a huff. "You're the one that made that disgusting drink." Chase let out a loud sigh of exasperation burst from his lips, stalking into the kitchen and grabbing a rag and settling himself on the floor with the look of a thunderstorm.

"You shouldn't have said those things, sir," Maya said quietly, sitting herself down beside Chase, keeping her eyes downward. "You don't know her."

"It's always MY fault, always ME that doesn't know people!" Chase nearly yelled, throwing the rag on the floor he had been halfheartedly rubbing at. "That obnoxious cow insulted me too!"

"Maybe you should sit down and talk about it together," Yolanda snorted when she saw the shocked and disgusted expression in Chase's eyes. "Oh, come on. You can't go around making enemies out of everyone on the entire island. Not everyone is going to be like Calvin." Chase stiffened at the name, but relaxed as he drew a deep breath inward.

"Okay. I'll go talk to her," he sighed outward. Chase shouldered his coat on and opened the door again.

"Just try to be gentle please, Chase," Yolanda called out behind him. The only sign that he had heard her was the little wave he gave, before the door slammed shut on the warm kitchen.

**Hello! Thank you for reading Sweet and Sour! This is my first fanfiction, so any feedback would be amazing!  
This isn't going to follow the Harvest Moon storyline, but rather the Pride and Prejudice storyline. The first time I saw Chase in the games I knew he'd make a great Darcy in an AU! If you're looking for a fic that follows the whole "ring the bells and save the island" plot, I have another fic as well titled A Very Fond Farewell. I would've updated sooner, but I lost the file for this story. But I got it back and so I'll be updating this as well as the other fic of mine regularly now! :D Yay!  
If you liked this story or if you didn't like it, please leave a review! I'm grateful for all feedback and it's nice to know that someone's reading, and I'm always looking to better my writing. Thank you muchly for reading! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

"Owen!" Lizzie screamed, cupping one of her hands over her mouth, to a high-up window above the blacksmith. "Owen! Wake up!"

"Go away!" a tousled red head of hair popped out the window, followed by two tired brown eyes. "My hangover is KILLING ME. I don't need you screaming at me now too!"

"I have a cure!" Lizzie screeched, grinning like a madman. "Yolanda made it for you!"

"They say that every time!" Owen yawned and disappeared back into the window. "GOODNIGHT."

"Owen!" Lizzie screamed, not about to give up. She placed the drink on the porch below the window, picked a mushroom (the heaviest object nearby), and hurled the mushroom through Owen's window. "Get your lazy butt out of bed!" She threw another mushroom through the open window. To her immense surprise, a pillow came skyrocketing through that same window, heading straight for her. "HOLY SH-" Lizzie began to yell, but was cut off when the deadly missile hit her square in the face and knocked her flat on her back. A bright chuckle brought the young rancher to her feet quickly, ready to punch the perpetrator. She was greeted with the amber eyes and cobalt blue hair of Luke.

"Having a nice morning, Lizzie?" he asked, a devilish grin on his face, still laughing even as Lizzie whipped the pillow at him at lightning speed.

"Better now for target practice!" she replied with a confident tilt of her chin.

"That's my only pillow!"

The voice was so close that it made Lizzie turn around quickly. Owen stood before the two with nothing but a short pair of tiger-print boxers, tapping his foot and taking tentative sips of the hangover cure, glaring at the two of them.

"I find myself not caring," Lizzie stuck her tongue out at Owen, who easily grabbed her into a headlock. She giggled and fought her way out.

"Our lady is a fighter, Luke," Owen grinned down at Lizzie, who looked curiously back at him, with an innocent smile of her own. "Gimme that." He swiped the pillow from Luke.

"You going into Garmon today, Owen?" Lizzie grinned at the charismatic young welder. "The weather seems nice enough, and I heard Ramsey finally broke through that block on the lower level."

"Yeah, the old fart takes all the credit," Owen grumbled playfully, a grin breaking through the lips he tried to keep straight. "We worked together, and there's almost a whole other world down there!"

"I'll try to get there tomorrow!" Lizzie gasped, awestruck by the thought of a whole new addition to the mining world. "I have to take some stuff into town today, to Kathy and Candace."

"I'll try to make sure my schedule's open tomorrow, so I can take you down," Owen grinned again, finishing the hangover cure in one sure gulp.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling myself down there," Lizzie retorted, raising an eyebrow and placing one hand on her hip.

"Anything down there would run in terror from your sharp tongue," Owen teased, laughing and ducking a swipe of Lizzie's fist. "We can't have our girl getting hurt, though, can we?"

"No way," Luke nodded, seemingly solemn. "The worst she could do to an attacker is talk them to death."

"Shut up!" Lizzie laughed, turning around to abruptly leave the scene, and barreled straight into Chase.

"Excuse me," he said, equally as surprised as she felt. Her hands had spread out on his chest, where her bright red cheeks had been moments before.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lizzie stuttered, moving past him clumsily, tripping ever so slightly. "I have things to deliver." She stomped away, face bright red.

"What'd you do, man?" Luke looked at Chase wide-eyed.

"I have no idea," Chase replied, staring dazedly at Lizzie's retreating back.

"Thank you for the herbal tea, Lizzie," Candace looked shyly at her friend and smiled. "It keeps my head on straight."

"We all know you need it with Luna around," Lizzie teased, winking at the girl with curly pink pigtails that glowered behind the counter. Luna huffed, turning away from Lizzie and folding her arms.

"Do you have that silk Grandmother ordered or not?" she snapped.

"Of course, I never miss an order," Lizzie replied cheerily, taking a bolt of white silk out of her basket. "Here you go. I should have more in a week or two; my sheep's wool grows back awfully quickly."

"It _is_ an enchanted island," Luna retorted, grabbing the silk and heading to a back room with it.

"We're all very grateful to you for ringing the bells, and bringing the Harvest King back," Candace muttered, glancing balefully in Luna's direction. "We _all_ are, even though some of us don't show it very well."

"I'm here to help," Lizzie smiled slightly, placing a hand on Candace's shoulder. "I shouldn't keep my horse waiting much longer; we still have to go down to Marimba Farm to get some buckwheat seeds. Winter is coming in two days and I have to start cutting down some of the crops that won't grow between now and then."

"I know what you mean," Candace shivered, as if picturing the snow that was already settling on the bricks of the town square. "We have been sewing like crazy the past couple of days to try to get the newest winter fashions in the store. It's a nightmare."

"I'll come around tomorrow with some more herbal tea," Lizzie patted her friend on the back and smiled sympathetically. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye, Lizzie," Candace smiled weakly and waved as Lizzie swept out of the store. Lizzie immediately shivered, pulling her thin coat tighter around her shoulders.

"Excuse me…" a deep voice sounded behind her. Lizzie squeaked and whirled around to see a most unexpected face.

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Mr. Darcy?" Lizzie recovered from her shock quickly and replied tauntingly.

"Mr. Darcy is my father," Chase winced, looking at her disdain. "Anyway, I wanted to apologize for what happened back at the inn. I was out of turn."

"Apology accepted," Lizzie replied coldly, preparing to mount the white steed that waited for her outside of the dress shop.

"Aren't you going to apologize?" Chase demanded, following her even as she began to ride away. Lizzie stiffly turned to stare at him.

"For what? I said that you had a perfect life. What part of it isn't perfect?" She hissed, waiting for a moment afterwards for an answer that never came. "That's what I thought. You're just a typical rich snob who thinks that everyone should worship and pity them. This is one girl whose adoration you will never get!" Lizzie turned back to the direction in which her farm was in, and was met with a resounding slap across her cheek. She was thrown back against a column that held Sonata Tailoring up, and her head smacked against the wooden beam, making her hearing fade a bit.

"How dare you speak to a Darcy in that way?!" An even deeper voice than Chase's yelled, blocking out the roaring of the blood in Lizzie's ears. Her eyes had closed, but she forced them open in order to stare at the elder Mr. Darcy, Chase's father. Her cheek stung and she could feel something, blood or tears, trickling down her cheek. "That is not how you address your betters, foolish peasant!"

"How does smacking an innocent girl around make you better than me?" Lizzie spat, hatred filling her eyes as she faced the man defiantly. He lifted his hand again, fury contorting his features.

"Father, no!" Chase yelled, stepping in between his father and the young rancher. "Don't you lay a finger on that girl."

"Her insolence must be punished," Mr. Darcy growled, the fury never leaving his eyes as he turned to face his son.

"She did nothing wrong to me. Leave her alone," Chase replied defiantly, standing nose-to-nose with his father.

"If she so much as glances at you, I'll have her whipped," Mr. Darcy glared and Lizzie, and stepped back into his waiting carriage, which then continued down the main road.

"I-I'm sorry," Chase stuttered, reaching a hand down to help Lizzie up. "Let me help you."

"I don't require your assistance today, sir," Lizzie replied, formally and coldly. She stood up and quickly brushed past Chase to mount her horse and canter away.

_**Even though I have a lot more for A Very Fond Farewell written, I will never give up on this story! If you loved/hated this story, please leave a review. I'm always looking to improve! :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I know I haven't really updated in a while. I've been real busy at university but now that it's summer I have a bit more time to write. Expect more frequent updates for this and A Very Fond Farewell, as well as a new story! Thank you for reading! :)**

"Chase! What happened?" Candace had come running out of the dress shop with the jingle of a bell and a whiff of tea. "Luna said that Lizzie was slapped!"

"My father…" Chase near-whispered, looking at his hands. Why had he been unable to help her?

"Wh-Where did the blood come from?" Candace paled. "Was it a big cut?"

"It was from his ring," Chase replied quietly, glancing down the path that Lizzie had galloped down mere seconds before. "And…I think she hit her head…"

"She should be okay," Candace breathed a sigh of relief. "Since she lives alone, it's easy for her to neglect her own health."

"Someone should go check on her," Chase muttered, beginning to walk down the path.

"I'll go get Luke, and we'll leave at once," Candace reassured him. "I don't know if you should go…she may be rather upset with you."

"Whatever," Chase snapped as Candace ran towards the church, ready to take the mine cart up to Garmon Mines. _Why can't I do anything right around her?_

"I'm seriously fine, guys," Lizzie grinned at Luke and Candace. "It's not even a bad cut."

"I know, Lizzie," Candace sipped from her mug of herbal tea and sighed in exasperation. "But winter is coming, and you could've had a concussion! We're lucky Luke brought his first aid kit."

"Lizzie, we're just worried about you," Luke placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Please try to understand. And you know, Chase was—"

"I don't want to hear about him," Lizzie snapped, looking away from Luke. "I'm just going to stay out of his way from now until his damn father sells the island."

"But, Lizzie," Candace began, eyes wide in anxiety.

"No buts," Lizzie replied dismissively. "Thank you guys for coming to check on me, but I can handle it now, I have Sheep here to help me with the animals." She pointed to her large black-and-white collie.

"Okay, Lizzie. Whatever you say," Luke threw his hands in the air and opened the door for Candace. "We'll check on you as soon as winter begins, okay?"

"Please try to take it easy, Lizzie," Candace sighed as she pulled her coat back on. "You may not have a concussion, but you hit your head pretty hard. Just come and get one of us if you need any help, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, mom," Lizzie grinned affectionately at Candace. "And bring me some more cocoa beans! I'm almost out and I don't want to go without chocolate this week."

"I hear ya!" Luke laughed, waved, and followed Candace out the door. Lizzie sighed, burying one hand deep within Sheep's soft fur.

"I guess that it's just you and I now, huh, buddy?" she murmured, patting her lap so that Sheep would at least put his head in a prime scratching position. After a few minutes of pampering Sheep, Lizzie began to don her warmer autumn clothes when there was a knock on the door. "I bet that Luke forgot something that he didn't actually have with him," Lizzie chuckled under her breath. However, as she opened up her front door, nobody was there. Lizzie looked all around her ranch but saw no sign of anyone. She then looked down on her doorstep to find a freshly baked apple pie giving off steam cheerfully in the winter air. "Leaving fresh pie outside in this weather is a crime!" Lizzie gasped, snatching up the pie and giving her property a quick glance in the gathering gloom before retreating back inside. "It's looking like a pretty bad storm out there, Sheep," she shivered before plopping the now-cool pie on her kitchen table. "But look! Someone left a pie for us!" Sheep barked, putting his front paws on the table so that he could give the pie a not-so-gentle sniff. "Pie time makes a happy Lizzie!" Lizzie grinned, cutting a piece of pie and sliding it onto one of her small plates. She fished a fork out of her drying rack and was about to cut a piece of pie when another knock was heard. "I swear if this is another ding-dong-ditch, I'll sic my dog on you!" Lizzie muttered as she pushed back her chair and stomped over to the door. To her surprise, Chase Darcy stood shivering on her doorstep, blinking apologetically as she opened the door.

"There's a terrible storm," Chase panted, his hair and clothing being tugged on violently by the wind. "Can I stay here tonight? I can't make it home."

"O-of course," Lizzie stammered, stepping aside so that Chase could enter her home. "What kind of storm is it, exactly?"

"It looks like rain, but I daresay that there's also some snow in it," Chase shook his head, standing on the rug right inside the door. Lizzie shut the door and eyed him carefully; he was soaking wet.

"I don't really have clothes that would fit you," Lizzie stated. "I have a robe that you can wear while I throw your clothes in the dryer, if you like."

"That would be lovely, thank you," Chase replied quickly, removing what looked like a sopping pair of hiking boots. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"I couldn't just leave you out in the cold," Lizzie muttered, pointing into a separate room and throwing Chase a large robe. "There's the guest room. You can change in there."

"Thank you again," Chase nodded at Lizzie before staring at the ground and striding quickly into the guest room.

"Come on, Sheep," Lizzie began throwing on her rain coat and rain boots. "We have to make sure the coop and the barn are locked up and all of the animals are inside, and put the tarps on the vegetables." Sheep barked and ran to the door. When Lizzie opened the door, she was met with a slap of cold wind and sharp rain. She ran as quickly as she could to the barn and turned off the lights inside before locking the heavy double doors with an iron bar. The coop door, however, was more of a challenge. As there was only one door that had not been locked, it was banging open and closed on its hinges. "Sheep, is everyone in the coop?" Lizzie yelled over the storm. Sheep barked twice to let her know that all of the birds and silkworms were inside, and Lizzie pushed the door closed. Her hands were slippery with rainwater, and the lock seemed to elude her grasp several times. "_Finally, dammit!_" Lizzie panted when the bolt finally slipped into the lock. She gasped as she looked across her fields. Already some of her crops had been pulled out of the ground by the strong wind. Lizzie ran back inside her house with Sheep hot on her tail.

"Where were you?!" Chase leaped up from the chair he had been sitting in, glancing anxiously at Lizzie.

"Because I run this ranch, I have to make sure that my animals are safe and the vegetables aren't torn out of the ground by the wind," Lizzie replied sharply, reaching under her bed for the tarps and stakes that she used to cover the vegetable field.

"Do you need some help?" Chase asked, scrunching his eyebrows together and hovering over Lizzie as she headed back towards the door.

"I have been handling storms like this on my own for a year now," Lizzie snapped, throwing the door back open. "Just make sure that Sheep stays put." She slammed the door behind her as she squinted through the rain. The storm was definitely growing worse and she could see some funnel clouds forming by Marimba Farm. Lizzie hurriedly put a string loop at one corner of the tarp over a stake and drove the stake into the ground at the corner of the field closest to her house. The ground was wet and the stakes easily pierced the earth. After she had driven the last stake into the ground, Lizzie looked back at Marimba Farm to see the status of the tornado. The funnel clouds had all merged together to make a small-looking twister, but it was advancing on Lizzie's property very quickly. She made a mad dash for the house and bolted the door shut once she was inside.

"The power's out," Chase informed her, still in his robe and hovering by the door.

"There's a tornado heading this way," Lizzie panted, making her way over to the table in the middle of the main room. "We have to get into the basement." She strained to push the table to the side and lifted up the rug underneath to reveal a trapdoor. She lifted up the handle and opened the trapdoor before reaching for Sheep's collar and pushing him down through the small opening. "It's your turn, sir," she looked at Chase balefully.

"I'm not going in there," he replied haughtily, looking inside with disdain.

"You'll get your ass in there if you want to live," Lizzie growled with exasperation. "That tornado is _not_ going to wait for you to make up your mind about going downstairs or not!" Chase gave a small huff of annoyance and carefully made his way down the ladder and into the basement. Lizzie followed right on his heels, locking the trapdoor securely with a large iron bar.

"I can't see a thing," Chase's voice sounded whiny, though Lizzie could not see his face in the pitch darkness of the basement.

"Just chill," Lizzie hissed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before spotting the vague outline of her fireplace along the wall. She felt on the mantle for the box of matches that she always kept in order to light a fire. Her fingers found the box, but as she struck a match to start a fire, it was knocked out of her hand.

"Are you crazy?" Chase yelled. "If you light a fire in here, the smoke will fill the room and suffocate us!" Lizzie heard a stomp, which must have been Chase stepping on the match.

"You're an idiot," Lizzie sighed as she lit another match. "Relax; I have a ventilation system in the fireplace. I'm not dumb." She dropped the match into the pile of kindling that she kept stocked in the fireplace. It illuminated the room, revealing a dog bed, a sleeping bag, several shelves that had been carved into the wall, and a plush easy chair. "Seeing as we only have one sleeping bag, I'll let you take it." Lizzie addressed Chase as she settled into the easy chair.

"Thank you again," Chase mumbled, unzipping the sleeping bag and crawling in carefully, as the robe could part at the bottom and create a whole new level of awkward. "I really owe you one for this."

"How about you forget it ever happened?" Lizzie yawned and glared at Chase. "Since it's clear that you forgot, your father forbade me to even glance at you. I'd appreciate if this was all kept a secret."

"Look, I'm sorry," Chase's face was read as he began his overdue apology.

"No, it's my fault," Lizzie's eyes were continually drifting open and shut. "I shouldn't have talked to you that way…in public."

"I'm still sorry," Chase seemed oblivious to Lizzie's exhaustion. "My father isn't quite one for …interacting with others. He only has this island because it was left to him in my grandfather's will."

"That's exciting," Lizzie replied rather sarcastically with another yawn.

"I suppose, if you like will readings," Chase replied unperceptively.

"I assume that you haven't really noticed that it's eleven-thirty at night," Lizzie glared at the young man. "Because really, I should be getting to bed, I _am_ a rancher and I have to get up at six in the morning…"

"Then the problem is that I have to inherit the island after he retires it without any proper example to learn from," Chase sighed heavily and crossed his arms behind his head. "What if I do a worse job than he did? All I really want to do is cook…"

"Do I look like a therapist?" Lizzie rolled her eyes and tried to close them and lean her head back against her chair. "Just tell your dad to buzz off."

"Have you met my father?" Chase groaned, turning to glare at Lizzie. "I can't just tell him to 'buzz off'. I wish I actually had a choice about what to do with the rest of my life."

"Oh, for the love of God," Lizzie moaned, staring into the fire in annoyance. "If you think that you're just going to be handed the life that you want on a silver platter, you've got some twisted view of the world. You have to fight for what you truly want, and if you want it hard enough and work hard enough to get it, you'll get it. Honestly, if you still won't get that life that you want, then maybe you just aren't meant to go down that path. Understand?" Lizzie's soliloquy was met with silence. "Chase?" Lizzie growled, turning around in her chair to see that her worst fears had taken place; Chase had fallen asleep. "Well then," Lizzie huffed, pulling a blanket over her legs and trying to find a comfortable position in the chair. "Goodnight to you too."

**I know I'm not entirely going with the plot of Pride and Prejudice here, but I wanted to drabble around a bit before I get down to business. Leave a comment if you liked the story! Leave one if you didn't! Let me know if I made any errors! Thank you again! :)**


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